


The Viking Ship

by drvology



Series: Admit Two [2]
Category: Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-22
Updated: 2013-01-22
Packaged: 2017-11-26 10:07:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/649436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drvology/pseuds/drvology
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared & Jensen from <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/291034"><i>Tilt-A-Whirl</i></a> have conversation, a few years later.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Viking Ship

"...I feel it's only fair of me to tell you that, sometime in the future, I'm going to have a complete meltdown freak-out." Jared pulled on J-Moo's ears and looked over at Jensen, arranging texts and stacks of recycled paper notebooks and a highlighter cube perfectly-so.

Jensen hummed thoughtfully, traded in a diagonal, green in the N-W corner of the cube and yellow in the S-E, instead of the reverse. "I'll make a note. About anything in particular?"

"Yup." Jared tilted onto his side, propped on an elbow so he had an easier view, settled J-Moo into the tuck of his hip. He waited for Jensen to give him a go-on motion, then further until Jensen paused, grumped an eyebrow, before he relented. "You and me. Specifically, that I'll finally decide to listen to everyone's nonsense about how I need to experience other things, and not get locked in with you, and how meeting and falling so young was a mistake and I'll end up regretting it when I'm like, 35 and have never seen another dick up close and for-real in my life."

"Besides your own," Jensen supplied helpfully, dropped a ream of printer paper into the bottom drawer of his desk with a satisfying thump.

"Well, duh." Jared pitched farther, hooked his heel on the mattress and sat all the way up.

It was freshman year, second semester, and they'd wound up opting to attend a tiny, esoteric college where Jared could chase his nano-chem-biotech-engineering cravings, and Jensen could become an anthro-illustrator-writer-amazing-person. They loved it, and it was proving to be an adventure in growing up they were subsequently proving to be a matched force towards. They'd entered together, introduced themselves always as a set even when the other wasn't around, had stayed no doubts together. They'd endured the housing rules, how incoming freshman couldn't choose rooms or roommates, and being separated by one dorm and three floors.

Then Jared's roommate had gone and had an actual meltdown, and as of this semester, was no longer a student here. 

After that, and all during break while they'd made good on their work-stay hours, they'd wheedled and cajoled and promised to be the office lackey for Mrs H, head honcho in charge of figuring out all housing situations on-campus. She'd caved a day ago, a day after everything was supposedly finalized, told Jared while he was checking his mail cubby that he and Jensen were officially roomies.

She'd warned him not to make a big deal of it.

He'd cheered, given her a huge, sweeping hug, promised he'd be at her office first thing too early the next morning for whatever lackey duties she'd command. Then he'd sprinted all the way to the dining hall and made a grand entrance, complete with tripping over a chair then shooting up a set of victory arms with a shout.

Jared had slid under a table to get to the far side, in the corner, where Jensen sat ensconced, filling out that semester's class registration form. Jared had helped Jensen finish a pot of coffee and a plate of the sugar cookies they smuggled out of the hall on all occasion, then made a sandwich to take as they made for Jensen's _old room_ to move his gear into _their room_.

"What is this freak-out going to entail?" Jensen muttered around pushpins held in his lips, while he teetered to stand on his bed and smooth a tapestry on the wall, before pinning it securely.

Jared sighed dramatically. "A lot of small desperate things, too tedious to list. Mainly, and most obviously, a slutty gay death-spiral that eventuates in crying during blowjobs with strangers." He frowned hugely, rife with distress, just in time for Jensen to throw him a glance.

Jensen pushed the final pin home and patted the tapestry. It was their favorite, combined, so they'd agreed it should go next to the bed. During the day they decided they should pull them apart, but at night--last night being the first, the giddy unbelievable heady first--they'd push them together, sleep all knotted and handsy and entwined.

"The crying better be while you're on the receiving end, otherwise, I think it constitutes a choking hazard." Jensen pursed his lips. "And I know you'll be in a totally self-absorbed haze of bad decisions and loathing and regret, but try not to sob too much while getting head, either. Otherwise that's like, a choking hazard of a different kind."

"Right." Jared licked his fingertip and tallied it in the air. He suppressed a shudder at Jensen saying _getting head_ and being so blase about trading comments about blowjobs. Talk about mind-bending. "Anyway, I figure it'll last several months, at least. My grades will slip, and I'll lose weight and get hollow-eyed and haunted, stop going to class entirely, mired in awful cycles of guilt and the fear that I've lost everything important to me. Eventually my family will get worried enough to talk to you about it."

"What should I tell them?" Jensen hopped from the bed to sit at his desk chair, started transferring clothes from the hamper to his dresser.

They'd situated the beds at the end of the room closest to the door, floated a bit away from the closet on one side and narrow set of shelves on the other. Both dressers were put at the other end of the room in opposite corners, framing the bank of windows, with their desks moved to nest pushed flushed facing one another inside that frame.

On the other wall was Jared's poster of Matisse's _The Goldfish Bowl_.

It was cozy. Nicely, amazingly, wonderfully so.

"That you aren't sure what's going on and have no conceivable idea what's gotten into me, I suppose. Because at that point, you won't." Jared stretched, resisted reaching across the very narrow divide to grab Jensen mid-sock-balling. "Then they'll beg you not to leave me and help me through the terrible times and all that."

"Hmmm." Jensen stuffed the rest of his socks in the top drawer, shut it with a light snick. "Will I take you back?"

Jared fiddled J-Moo's antlers. "God, I hope so. By then I'll have like, realized that you're the only person I'd ever loved or ever would, that you pretty much are my life, and I'll be hating myself and every dick ever but yours -- yes, including mine."

"Wow. That is tragic. I'll consider it, then." Jensen tacked their schedule--custom-made by Jared in color-coded spreadsheet format--on the bottom corner of their corkboard. He turned around, hands on hips, glared at Jared. "You're not gonna start doing drugs, are you?"

"No, definitely not." Jared's lips curled with distaste. "Sure I'll be in the throes of the wretched death spiral and all, but I don't think I'll be so far gone I'll get over that I basically hate how drugs feel."

Jensen laughed. "How inhaling second-hand pot is, you mean, because I know you haven't been embroiled in a secret crank experimental phase or whatever else."

"It still counts. And counts to know I don't like it." Jared shrugged, not the least bothered.

Jensen pretty much hated drugs too, though Jensen had actually smoked the pot instead of merely sitting there choking on it. Jared harbored a suspicion that a lot of the reason Jensen avoided drugs was because they did nothing for Jared and he wanted nothing to do with them, but rather than feeling like a tool or ashamed or as if he was holding Jensen back or something, it just made him love Jensen more.

Besides, Jensen had said more than once that kissing Jared-- _and everything else kissing leads to_ \--was way better than any drug. Jared believed that, and agreed, no suspicion at all.

"Box wine!" he exclaimed. "I'll develop an insanely unhealthy attachment to boxed wine. The cloyingly fruity and sweet white shit. Beyond living on some ragged edge where I long only for the barest of smiles from you, box wine will be what gets me through the day."

"Yuck." Jensen stuck his tongue out. "Man, you really are planning on being in a very dark, very bad place."

Jared nodded sadly. "I just hope I survive it." He blinked rapidly, squinted, enough for his eyes to wet a little. "That we survive it."

The effect was reduced to Jensen's eyeroll. "For when exactly is your freak-out planned?"

"Junior year."

Jensen made an outraged face and threw a pen at Jared. "During our anniversary year? You fucking dog. J-Moo and I are going to be very disappointed in you. And to think, here I was on the verge of taking you back, no questions asked!"

"Well, you're the one who pushed to know, so I hope you're happy." Jared kicked his feet at the carpet, tried not to grin at them, here like this, and how their bedspreads coordinated without quite exactly matching, and how their weekend plans consisted of study-block sessions broken up with incentive rewards. How they were definitely uber-dorky enough to contentedly spend the first weekend of their new semester being sure they were current with their work.

Rewards like treating themselves to big brunch on Sunday at the dining hall, when the waffle making station was set up. Or stopping for breaks to watch all the _Helm's Deep_ then _Gondor_ battle scenes that Jensen had edited together. Or dropping books, and pens, and the shades to make out.

Jensen stood up slowly, stopped next to the bed, rested his hands draped on Jared's shoulders.

"I guess since we're having this heart-to-heart and confessional, I should tell you something, too."

Jared's hands drifted naturally to hold Jensen's hips, fit there just-so, perfectly, and he feathered his fingers up under Jensen's shirt to feel the warmth of skin.

"I mean, if you're done confessing." Jensen smirked, rubbed his thumb at Jared's pulse.

"I'm good. For now." Jared blinked. "I might think of something more later, but you got the gist."

Jensen nodded. "Good enough, then. Okay so, senior year I'm going to apply to some grad school halfway across the world on a whim. And then I'll get accepted. And then I'll lose my mind thinking you won't come with me but be convinced if I don't go my career and life will be over before it really begins. And I won't tell you, I'll just get really withdrawn and haggard and it'll be like you don't even know me anymore."

"What?" Jared huffed. "All this _after_ my freak-out? Why not just leave me junior year and run off to your school?"

It almost, almost, hurt to say that, even as a tease.

Jensen made momentary big-arms, let them back down on Jared's shoulders. "Because you were losing your mind! And were gonna get kicked out of school and drown your whole future and all your dreams in box wine! Besides, I didn't know then that I'd apply on a whim to a school in--"

"--New Zealand. It had better, at least, be New Zealand." Jared rounded both eyes, brows arched high above them.

"Yeah, okay. New Zealand it is. Or Scotland. Either way."

"Sure, either way. You're harboring this terrible secret that you think will tear us apart, and it almost will, until finally?"

"I break down and _have_ to tell you everything." Jensen tickled Jared's hair back behind an ear. "By then, my parents will have talked to you, and maybe I'll be on like, a nearly unhinged energy drink and anguish binge so I can stay awake all the time and avoid contact with you because I'm always in the studio or the lab or working. Part of me will have become fixated on that I'm somehow better off without you. I snap and think ridiculous crap about needing to define who _I_ am, apart from _us_ , but it's like torture because of course I can't actually be without you, and somehow that gets all tangled with my choice of schools."

Jared ran his thumbs along Jensen's waistband, both of them comfy in tees and flannel pjs. "What will your folks' talk consist of?"

"Oh, they'll throw in your face how I heroically saved you from soul destitution and utter life ruination, and you'll owe me at least the courtesy to find out what's bothering me."

"So, where are we, then?" Jared went back over it in his mind. "Okay but that's before. I suppose I'll agree. But by now you've told me, and I'll have gotten over the anger, but I might exasperatedly mention you could have just told me all along, and I know it's okay and we're moving to Scotland. Or New Zealand. Scotland just so happens to have the most aptly suited grad program for me to study at, I discover and then surprise you with."

"Is that right?" Jensen asked, was fully grinning.

Jared grinned to match. "It totally is."

"Clever. Almost unbelievably convenient, but clever. Well, I suppose in that case, you can come with." Jensen leaned in, pressed his forehead to Jared's. "Wanna know the best part of all this?"

"Hmmmm?" Jared purred lazily, both hands well under Jensen's tee and exploring with oh, a mite less laziness.

"Having established everything, and subsequent action-reactions into resolution, including some discerning I-statements of our feelings and everything, we can skip all that and pass go to collect the make-up sex. Now."

"Dude. Totally the best. Ever," Jared murmured, rucked Jensen's tee up then all the way off. "I'm so glad we cleared the air, did manage to survive all that." He smiled when Jensen gently set J-Moo on the other bed then climbed to straddle his lap, laughed as Jensen pushed him down onto the bed. "We're good at this."

"Surprisingly so, considering we met so young and are still too young, went too fast and are still going unadvisedly breakneck, put all our eggs in the one basket in the cart that's ahead of the horse." Jensen grinned, eyes sparkling, the whole of him glowing and pleased at who they'd become, how they'd stuck, how they knew they always would.

"You know," Jared sucked at Jensen's skin after a sloppy, gorgeous kiss that stretched into three. "I _am_ us." He licked his lips and blushed, wanted to look away, kid at how sappy that was and it was part of their teasing too, couldn't quite. Because it was true.

"I know. Me too." Jensen grinned, simple sure and easy as that.

Jared threaded a hand in Jensen's hair, nibbled at Jensen's collarbone. "How about a blowjob, then? Like, a really very deliriously happy one?"

"Mine or yours?" Jensen paused slipping Jared's pjs down, hooked just beneath Jared's hipbones.

"Both?" Jared offered hopefully, breathy and hitched and thrummed with anticipation.

Jensen considered it for half-a-moment. "Deal."

They sealed it with shedding the rest of their clothes, an endless kiss.


End file.
